


Harellan

by Felandris



Series: Queen of Rifts [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Brotherly Love, Dreams, F/M, Fade, Forming the Inquisition, Harellan, Hate Magic, Lavellan living in the woods, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Rebels, Secrets, Twin Lavellans, VEIL, Wolves, forest, tree house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felandris/pseuds/Felandris
Summary: The Dalish have a name for those who abandon their clan and live alone in the woods. Melana Lavellan, a mage who hates magic, has decided to live her life as a Harellan, despite her twin brother's objections. The only thing she wants is to run with the wolves, not the responsibilities of a Keeper.I was writing another fic when this idea came up. I just wanted to share it with you guys. Let's see how it goes.Update: Harellan is now part of the Queen of Rifts series, assuming the role of a pre-Inquisition introduction that will set the base for Lavellan's choices during the Inquisition.





	1. The Tree Where I Live

When I run with the wolves I feel free…

But when I do, it feels like I’m getting farther away from my family and friends.

From my clan.

I am not allowed to mingle with these beasts. We are not allowed to disturb their lonesome peace in fear that something bigger and more terrifying than them will come after us.

I hate them… but they are my family.

I have been living alone for some time now. My brother disagrees. He says I have to go back to our camp. He really thinks that Keeper Deshanna will forgive me for running away. I think she won’t.

She has already tried to put some sense into me. To go back and take on the responsibility I chose not to undertake.

Why?

 I don’t get it. Why do I have to leave my family? My friends? Why do I have to be something that will take away my freedom?

Stupid…

The Dalish don’t allow more than three mages to live in the same camp.

The Sabrae clan has been waiting for a long time to get a newly trained Keeper after the loss of Keeper Marethari.

I think they’ll give up eventually. Our Keeper and her First have already informed them of my little _rebellious_ act. But the First still insists that what I do is just a phase and I’ll come round sooner or later.

Our First, my brother, cares about me. But he can’t see the reasons that pushed me away from our camp. He wasn’t there that day…

He wasn’t there when my magic manifested.

 

I was with our mother. She was picking elfroot while I was making a little flower wreath for her.

So many colors. Spring…

I was so little.

My memory is a little hazy. But every time the beast appears in my story, my memory becomes clear and accurate at once. It hurts…

I remember it was black with green sparkling eyes. Huge in the eyes of a da’len that still wanted her mother to sing her lullabies.

Mom had told me to hide. I didn’t…

She turned to me. Her face… How can I forget her face? My brother wasn’t there to witness what I did. Her smile… Her eyes… Everything…

I saw the great black wolf walking towards her. His teeth were the most frightening white I’d ever seen in my life. I was scared but I dared to run to my mother, to help her, to save her…

The voices of our hunters attracted the wolf’s attention. Their elvish didn’t echo nicely in the beast’s ears. My mother pushed me back shouting at my face to run. I was just a child without any power, magical or not, to stop it.

And when she pushed me away, I saw the black horror jumping on her, the fabric on her shoulders turning a bright crimson that still haunts me and makes my stomach stir.

She was scared... she wanted me to run…

_Tears…_

I remember tears rolling down her face.

After some terrifying seconds, she spoke. I couldn’t listen to her. Her words sounded like a horrific cry to my ears.

I felt awful… I wanted to puke… What could I do? Where were the hunters? Why were they late?

I started crying lowering myself to the fresh dirt until it happened.

A strange but familiar aura…

I closed my eyes and imagined my mother cooking, telling me stories and kissing me good night. I saw her gentle smile, her long pretty hair tied up as she used to when we gathered elfroot for our tea.

I called out to her…

Why couldn’t I hear her?

Something was whispering in my head. I could understand the words. It was a lullaby. My mother’s lullaby. _Melava somniar…_

It was soothing. The voice; my mother’s voice. I saw her moving closer to me and I opened my arms to hug her. She never came, though.

When I finally opened my eyes, I witnessed the nightmare instead of the pretty dream. A pool of crimson blood surrounding both my mother and the black beast. My hands… They felt… cold.

The beast’s claws were shoved deep into her chest. The bright green eyes staring at her.

They stood there as one like they were frozen in time. My mother was looking back at me with a smile I would never be able to bring back to life. More tears nicked my face. Until I realized that I was the one who had frozen them.

_Magic…_

That was the day I found out I had the same gift as my twin brother.

I hate that gift. It took away the only chance I had to save my mother. Deshanna had said she’d not have survived, whether I had attacked or not.

But I was responsible.

I am responsible for her death. If only I was quick enough to bring the hunters.

I blame myself.

I hate magic.

And I miss her. I miss her so much that I decided to exile myself in the woods when I finally got my vallaslin.

I don’t use magic as much as Deshanna insists on practicing. I hunt with a bow and arrows for my food. I protect myself with it. I don’t rely on something that suddenly came to me by chance.

‘A late bloomer’ Deshanna used to say.

She practically raised my brother and I. We owe her so much. But I left anyway.

They don’t understand.

They never will. I don’t want that responsibility. It… terrifies me.

I don’t want the Tales of the Wolf’s Betrayal to haunt my sleep. I catch myself feeling jealous of dwarves. They can’t dream. I can and every single time it is harder to forget.

Sometimes I imagine things that will make my brother and Deshanna lock me up in one of the clan’s aravels. This will be unfortunate. They already think I’m crazy enough to live alone in the woods, away from our clan, and refuse to use magic.

 

“Melana.”

I stand up from my bedroll in order to see what the _intruder_ wants this time.

“Brother…”

I see him staring at me from the ground. He doesn’t come up to my little tree house. I build it myself to keep away everything hurtful away. Including him…

But I’m proud of it. Our father would like it.

“Could you come down, lethallan?”

He hasn’t changed.

I slowly leave the comfort of my tree house and my feet feel the cold soil.

“How are you?”

I was wrong. He has changed a lot.

His hair is longer. His face looks wiser. Dirthamen’s vallaslin make him look older and stricter. I wonder if I’d look the same if they had given me the same Blood Writing.

“I’m fine. I brought a little something from your friend Mehra.”

I always wonder if she is alright. She had a son some moons ago. He must be adorable like his mom.

I see my brother searching in his Dalish Keeper robes for my little surprise. I grow a little impatience to find out what it is.

At last. A necklace! He hands it to me in a way that means I have to give him back something for the service. I hate it when he does that.

“Ma serannas.” I look at the little Halla charm made out of bone. Mehra is the craftiest elf I know. “Thank her for me, will you?”

“You could do it yourself, sister.”

I’m too fascinated by the necklace that I don’t even pay attention to him and that annoying persistence to change my mind. Deshanna must be behind it. Again.

“How is everyone?”

“They are getting ready for winter. We’re heading South in two moons.”

“I see. Will you still _play_ with the shemlen this year?”

 _Play_ … more like slay. I don’t know what happened to my clan and turned so cruel over the years. We used to have dealings with the shemlen. Our parents used to trade Halla fur with them.

“You disapprove, sister?”

“Don’t you?”

“As our clan’s First, I have to approve of our traditions and care for their completion in the most respectful way.”

“You could’ve said I enjoy watching our hunters slay shemlen for fun…”

“No. The practice is to ensure the prosperity of our people. It’s not called Fen’Harel’s Teeth for nothing.”

“You’re afraid of the Dread Wolf catching your scent if you don’t please him with human sacrifices?”

“It’s not as simple as that. You of all people should know.”

I do.

But the thought disgusts me. What would mother say about it, if she was still alive?

“Yeah. But the thing is… I don’t want to remember or know anything else about it.”

“You can, if you desire it.”

“Creators, Mahanon! Did Deshanna send you again?”

I try hard not to lose my temper. But if I had my bow close, I’d really think of using it on his ass.

“No. I came here on my own volition to see you, sister. Is that bad?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I’m fine. Anything else?”

“You have already heard what I wish to discuss with you.”

“I’m not going back to the camp, Mahanon. Can’t you just let me be? Am I disturbing you in any way?”

“You are a Mage, Melana.”

“And?”

“You have a responsibility to your People. A responsibility towards the Sabrae clan who remains without a Keeper.”

His face reminds me of our father when he frowns.

“No. You have a responsibility to them. The only responsibility I have is to keep myself alive!”

“You won’t let me help you, Melana. Do you think that I’ve forgotten how you feel? What you went through? Do you think I’ve forgotten about mother?”

“Evidently…”

“Don’t…” He tries to keep his temper this time. Oh Mahanon…

“Can’t you just forget about me?”

“You want me to leave you here to rot?”

His eyes are cold.

“I won’t rot.”

“Denying practicing magic will catch up to you eventually. You understand that, don’t you sister?”

“I’m aware… but I didn’t ask for it. You were the one gifted with such grand _responsibility_.”

“You were a la—“

“A late bloomer? You sound like Deshanna now.”

I believe he understands how much this discussion pains me. But he keeps pushing, hoping I might crack and follow him back to our clan.

“Ir abelas.”

“I know. But it won’t change anything.”

“Keeper Deshanna believes in you, Melana. Doesn’t this mean anything to you?”

“Do _you_ believe in me?”

“I do, Melana! What kind of question is that? I want you to be happy.”

Such a pretty little word…

“This is enough for me.”

“Running with the wolves?”

Some more _pretty_ words.

“Whatever you are trying to do, this little mind trick won’t change my mind.”

“Just… be careful, okay?” Brother… “Promise me that you’ll practice your magic. This is all I ask. I’ll come over in a few days.”

“Dareth shiral.”

When he leaves I begin to breathe normally, again. Deshanna won’t be happy with that. But I don’t really care about that… Maybe a little. My brother is all I’ve left and after he becomes Keeper, I don’t know with what plan he’ll come up in order to bring me back.

They even have a name for elves like me. _Harellan_ … A traitor to one’s kin.

I try not to think about it and climb back on my tree house. This is where I live now. This is mine. Wood and leaves and everything. I placed everything together.

This is the tree where I live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shemlen: Humans  
> Dareth shiral: Farewell/Safe journey  
> Melava somniar: Time to Dream from the Dalish Lullaby "Mir Da'len Somniar"


	2. Vir Tanadhal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dalish Firsts are taught subjects like magic and history rather than the Vir Tanadhal of the hunters. Melana, though, knows and respects Andruil's philosophy during her hunt. After all, she isn't a normal Dalish mage. The Vir Tanadhal is a Dalish philosophy espoused by a clan's hunters in the spirit of the elven goddess of the hunt, Andruil. It teaches young Dalish hunters to respect nature, work together and be resolute in purpose.

I take my bow and climb down again. My belly insists on finding something bigger than a fennec this time. There are various predators in the woods hunting all the nugs. I just wish not to come across them any time soon.

It feels great when I walk among the trees. It’s getting colder but my mother’s scout armor keeps me warm. It is better looking than what my brother wears and what I’d have to wear if I stayed. Creators, I hated that.

My tracking skills aren’t great but I finally find signs of a wild nug. It must be bigger than those little fennecs I’ve killed.

I bring my bow closer to me, breathing normally. I always feel uneasy when it comes to killing things. But I have to in order to survive.

There is something else out there. It makes the tiny sticks on the ground break. My ears pick up signs of both the nug and another creature. My guess, it’s a bear. I hide myself in case it catches my scent. There is a pond behind the bushes in front of me. Maybe I’ll find something tastier than a nug.

I try to be swift and silent. I have to strike true and not waver. This is the Way.

The sun rays penetrate the huge nets of leaves spreading over the pond. Their colors always remind me why my clan roams here. It is majestic, wild and indomitable.

I lower my bow only for a moment to take a look at what the gods have blessed. Sometimes I wonder how is this different from the time of ancient Arlathan. How can such beauty be less than what was back then?

My day dreaming is full of questions like this. Out here I only think about the world I live in. About the things I see and the things that stay hidden. I wonder if someone out there knows the answers to all these better than we do.

I must concentrate. My thoughts aren’t going to fill my belly.

At last I’m lucky. There are almost four chubby nugs drinking water and resting.

I wonder where is the predator. I can’t be so lucky but maybe the gods smile at me for once. I take my position and I’m ready to shoot. These pink creatures are so ignorant and happy rolling in the mud and playing.

I shoot my arrow.

It doesn’t miss. The rest panic and scatter as their friend lies motionless on the ground next to the crystal water. I see it is dead when I lower myself to the ground next to it. It didn’t suffer. This is the Way.

“I receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness. I respect the sacrifice of your children. I know that my passing shall nourish them in turn. This is your Way. I remember the Ways of the Hunter and you shall be with me, great Andruil.”

I always pray to the goddess Andruil after a fresh kill. The Vir Tanadhal has to be followed with great respect. The forest sustains me as well as all the living creatures. Everything around me feels alive. It invites me to stay, to live and be free.

Is this the right way to live?

Why are we supposed to live only in isolated camps? I want to see the world. I want to know every living creature. And when I grow old and wither, I want to be part of this world.

So beautiful and wild.

So many things have yet to be discovered.

But being a Dalish means preserving the history of our ancestors. I often wonder if this is an endless circle the Dalish have chosen. Will our descendants remember me, my brother, my parents our clan?

Or will we wither from history in order the knowledge of the ancient world to survive?

I guess they will know a little about me. It hasn’t been another Harellan in our clan since a long time. I don’t mind being remembered as a traitor to our kin.

At least I’m happy.

 

I prepare my fire with difficulty since every piece of log is wet form yesterday’s downpour. I don’t even think about using magic to do it. It is a daily life struggle I want to go through.

The smell of burned skin makes my belly growl. I feel a little exhausted but the nug’s flesh will replenish my strength. As much as I don’t want to admit it, my brother is right.

He always is.

It is part of his charm, among other things. The shemlen would call him something like a ‘lady-killer’. His green eyes and blondish hair are rare among out clan.

Mahanon is annoyingly perfect that it makes me wonder what mother would say to him for being a little arrogant. If we weren’t twins, then I’d think they had adopted me or something.

I laugh a little when I think of him as a child. He was the troublemaker back then.

The smell of burned flesh brings back memories of us spending time with our father. Those few precious days were everything to us. I miss him as well. I don’t know if he’s alive. I pray to our gods that he is safe.

Deshanna says he may be at Weisshaupt. He is a Warden. He didn’t have a choice after that blasted trip to the Deep Roads.

Why did we let him go?

Why did Deshanna think it was a good idea to let him and some of our clansmen search for metals there?

My thoughts are lost in the silence of the forest.

“As the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience; In pliancy, find strength. This is your Way…”

I mumble the words that have kept me alive in the wilderness. The Vir Tanadhal gives me strength. Deshanna didn't want to me to know about the ways of the hunters. But it's better than practising the one thing that pains me the most. 

I rip the flesh with my teeth feeling thankful that my belly will be satisfied tonight. I have an important job to do tomorrow. If I cross paths with these monstrous giants, I have to be at full strength.

The arrow needs force in order to pierce through their skin.

I take care of my fire, always careful not to give away my location to either predator or prey. There are wolves out there, hunting as the night closes in. I'm not afraid of them. They are nothing close to the black beast that killed my mother. Those are just hungry animals. That was a monster in a wolf’s pelt.

When I lie down everything seems so small. The forest outside turns restless as the creatures of the night appear. But I’m protected up here.

I convince myself not to give into dreams with foul promises and happy endings.

I’m afraid to close my eyes.

But I have to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used some info from [The Dragon Age Wiki](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Vir_Tanadhal#cite_note-0) for those who are unfamiliar or have forgotten about Vir Tanadhal!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)


	3. The Wrath of the Waking Sea

I’m awake when the dawn comes.

The winter birds announce the new day with their melancholic songs. It’s nice to listen to them outside my wooden window. This is my favorite part. Another new day to celebrate the defeat of the cold night.

It fills me with hope when I have none left.

My quest is long and I have to gather my supplies. I have no mount to travel with so I’ll need to make a few stops before reaching my destination. My flask is full and the seeds I picked yesterday will be enough for me to go.

Before leaving I make sure to hide my tree house under the big leaf net I spent time weaving. I don’t want anyone nosey sneaking in. Not that I have something valuable hidden up there.

I follow the same path I’ve been following for the last couple of years. My feet know the way better than my mind. No-one knows where I go or what I do during my quest. Despite the danger, my brother cannot know of my whereabouts.

I stand at the highest point of the hill and look ahead. The air is not kind. I see the little trails of white smoke rising to meet the sky. Somewhere between the trees is my clan’s camp. It is almost time for them to play that savage game of theirs.

Turning around is the best I can do to avoid picturing them butchering innocent shemlen. Mahanon thinks it’s debatable. What will the murder of a few shemlen do, when they’ve already slaughtered thousands of us first?

I can’t see the point…

Isn’t every life on this world precious? Isn’t justice different from vengeance?

This quest always makes me think about such things. Sometimes, though, I question the value of my life… I was spared because I was lucky…

I hate it… every single time I think about that day… I hate myself for letting our mother die.

This fear is still there, looking at me in the eyes… lurking in the darkest corners of my mind. And when Mahanon comes to visit me, not even the darkness is enough to hide it.

 

There are rain clouds on the sky. It makes the valley dreadful. Everything looks gray and wild. I begin to run in order to arrive at the shores of the Waking Sea before night falls. I push myself as much as I can, but not too much because I might need my strength to fight something worse than bears and wolves.

This is the easiest part so far. The difficult one comes when I’ll have to reach the Storm Coast. There’s a human living where I’m heading now. He transports other humans across the sea. He is kinder than the shemlen I’ve encountered so far.

He actually knew my parents when our clan used to trade with humans. I don’t know if it’s that or his fondness about elves that makes him help me once a year.

He must be expecting me by now… I wonder if he’s well after all this time.

The more I walk towards the sea the more I can feel it in my bones. The sun has already dived. I climb up fast waiting to see the man’s hut next to the salty waters of the Waking Sea.

There’s a smell of burnt wood in the air but it’s cold and the man must be sitting next to his fireplace to warm up. I try to remember what he looks like when I’m almost up there.

The air feels like sharp daggers on my skin. It takes my eyes a second to adjust and I finally see the dark sea spreading in the distance. I search for the hut but when I find it, I feel my stomach stirring. I go down the steep path minding not if I fall down. The smell gets worse with every step I make.

It can’t…

The pain on my legs becomes trivial as I witness the wooden hut burning to the ground. There’s something else. Horse noises are coming from the shore. I stop immediately and hide behind a boulder. The noises become louder.

I can hear men talking loudly. Did they set it on fire? Did they kill that man? I feel weird to the thought although he means nothing to me. Something inside me tells me I must do something but I stay still.

“Scout the area for survivors.”

“The man inside is already dead, Commander.”

I stay away from their eyes. If they aren’t the culprits, then they must be soldiers of some kind.

“Maker rest his soul. Did you find anything?”

The voice of that Commander sounds thoughtful. I wonder if he knew the man in the hut.

“Avvar scouts, sir.”

I try to get a good look and find the men talking to each other. They are Humans. Three of them are on their horses wearing green outfits and silver helmets. Their Commander stands further away. All I can see is him looking at the flames swallowing the hut. His helmet seems to be forged in a way that looks like a terrifying beast made of metal.

“They must have taken shelter already. There isn’t much we can do.”

He says and I hide. I have to wait until they leave. Hopefully they won’t find me because then I’ll have to fight my way out of it. An Elf lurking around a dead man’s property is reason enough to behead me without a trial or what humans consider proper for situations like this.

They finally leave when the fire is out. No-one noticed me. My body feels tired but my mind is trying to deal with it. I move carefully towards the black remains and find a pile of rocks standing some meters away from the hut.

At least the soldiers gave him a proper burial. There is no name on it, just a pile of stones that will mark a memory. A prayer to accompany him to the Beyond is all I can offer to him now. Such violent acts always make me wonder about the world. Is this where our da’lens and their little shemlen will be forced to live after we are gone?

I try not to think about it. My brother’s words will find their way into my head if I continue and I really don’t want that. The smell is horrible and I wonder if I should just let the hut rest in peace or search for the boat.

I can’t go back, though. I’m already there.

I decide to walk to the shore where, to my surprise, I find the boat. It looks okay. I pull it towards the water without giving much thought to it. I’ve lost enough time already.

When I start rowing, I listen to the sky above me roar. It doesn’t take long before thick drops of rain fall on my body. The salty water turns restless as I try to control the boat. It will be a miracle if I reach the Storm Coast in one piece.

What were you thinking, Melana…?

My vision is blurry from the downpour. The hut and the man are lost from my sight as I push myself to row harder. Between the thunder and lightning there’s something matching nature’s wrath. When I realize what it is I stand still.

I won’t be able to do anything if it finds me.

However, this is the least of my problems.

The waves are bigger now. They want to swallow the boat and take me down to the dark sea bed of sand. I resist but the fury is stronger. My ears go numb from the raindrops landing on the surface of the sea.

It is so loud…

Various thoughts pass my mind. None of them seems good enough to get me out of here alive. This wrath was so sudden… I was a fool to underestimate it.

I lose one of the oars when I lose my balance. It’s harder to control the boat. The waves look hungrier and I can neither see the shore nor guess if it’s near or far. There is no light, no sign, nothing but darkness.

I take cover in the fragile wooden structure and wait for some sort of idea to occur to me.

Magic?

Can I use it to save my life? I think harder...

I dare to rise up clumsily. My hands get cold as I try to cast the same spell I’ve been trying to erase from memory. It won’t work but it’s the only thing I’ve got.

I feel magic flooding my body. It feels disgustingly nice. I try it on a small wave and it works! I can’t believe it. I use it on some before grabbing my only oar. I command myself to row. My life depends on it.

I hope I’ll make it. I don’t— No. I have to make it.

I make the mistake to distract myself with thoughts that have been tormenting me for too long.

A dangerous mistake.

The largest wave I’ve ever seen moves to my boat. I can’t fight that. My body turns numb as I wait for it to crash me down like a moth.

I don’t even manage to pray to our gods because the next thing I feel is the cold water biting every inch of my flesh. Silence... I force my eyes to open and look around… There’s only the darkness of the void around me. Somehow it is comforting.

I wonder why…

I wonder…

I struggle to surface and take a breath. I have to get rid of the unnecessary weight if I want to stay alive. My supplies and bow are the first things the sea claims.

My body wants to give up but my mind commands it to carry on. I fight to swim but my mother’s armor drags me down.

I can’t get rid of it. It’s the only thing I’ve left. I can’t…

My heart’s pounding faster.

My strength’s failing me.

I can’t decide what’s right and what’s wrong so I allow myself to fall back into silence instead. It’s easier. It feels like I’m trapped inside an hourglass. The wrath is falling slowly onto me like grains of sand...

I’m safe here.

But I’m sinking…

I’m unable to breathe or move. I’m sinking but somehow it doesn’t feel so bad. I’m sinking—

Thinking if I’ll be able to see you again.

Mamae.

Ir abelas…

 

I think I’m falling asleep…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while but I finally wrote some more of Melana's story!  
> Thank you so much for all your comments! It means a lot to me that you enjoy it.  
> I have already finished the next chapter which I'll upload after I make some corrections. 
> 
> As you might have guessed, the Commander is our favorite man in charge, Cullen! I'm thinking of putting little things like this before the big hole in the sky appears... Also, a little update: this story takes place six months before the Divine Conclave (9:41 Dragon).  
> What originally triggered this version was a series of questions (or little things I wish they had put in the game): What's Inquisitor Lavellan's backstory before turning into a badass who closes rifts, kills people to save people and judges boxes? If he/she had different ones to choose from, then would that affect the choices you make in game? Would it affect the way he/she responds to his/her Companions? Did his/her clan even like him/her? What about his/her family? and so on. It also felt so natural to have two Lavellans arguing about stuff. I'm really glad you like the idea so far :)


	4. Where the Wild Wyverns Roam

Something is biting my ear.

It hurts a little but I can’t move to make it stop. There’s a watery weight in my chest. It feels—

I jerk up and the weight bolts out of my throat and lands on my lap. What happened? Where am I?

Coughing makes my chest hurt. My head feels dizzy. I will fall back if I don’t support myself with my hands. My lungs burn again as I taste the salt in my mouth. Where am I?

All I can see is a hazy grayness with hints of dark blue. My hands can feel soft dirt all around me. It’s wet.

I lie back slowly wondering if this is what comes next. I breathe… But so one thinks he can in dreams.

There is something that looks like clouds and sunrays up there. The sun? The real one? How can I be alive? The biting starts again and I trap what’s causing it with my hand. I lift it up and look how it struggles to go away.

Do crabs exist in dreams? Ι look closer at the blue mess with the big pincers and small legs that move uncontrollably.

How did I end up here?

My body rests for a while before attempting to stand up, again. My vision has finally cleared and I finally look at the sunrays passing through the thick clouds. Somehow it feels like warm fingers are caressing my cold cheeks.

When I manage to get on my feet, I start to remember the place. There’s a cave behind that cliff. I’m sure of it. The little stones mingled in the sand are exactly the same. This is the Storm Coast and for some reason I am alive.

How?

I look around for the remains of the boat. What I find instead is the whole thing on the shore some meters away from me.

It can’t be! The waves should’ve torn it into pieces!

I search for signs. Even the slightest thing that will answer my question. There is nothing but sand and spindleweed, though. No footprints to show me someone saved me and the boat from the storm. There is nothing that looks like—

No… there is. There are four big holes on the sand. I try to recall what I know about their peculiar shape.

They belong to something with large legs and huge claws.

Not a giant but something that is able to roam in the sky.

Can it be?

The Vinsomer lives in these wild parts. But if I encountered her when I was unconscious, then I should now be inside her belly. Is this what a dragon’s belly looks like? That’s unlikely…

The salty water is messing with my thoughts…

There is no explanation. My mind tries to process it but fails. I get on my knees and fold my hands on my chest.

But there must be one…

The gods must’ve smiled at me for once. My ears are silent. There is no voice to guide me into the truth. So, I assume it must be the work of some powerful entity.

The great Mythal has showed me mercy. Because I’ve been tried for my actions and I have lived to tell the tale.

I start murmuring in elven but it’s not enough to express how I feel. I burst into tears as the pressure conquers my body. It lasts for a minute because then I start laughing without a reason. It must be a sign but I cannot determine for what.

I’m no-one. I don’t want to be someone. Do the gods have other plans for me?

I continue laughing until I’m out of breath. I’m exhausted but determined to carry on. It’ll take me some time to cross the Storm Coast in this condition but Crestwood isn’t far way. The sea breeze feels nice for once. It makes my bitter tears go away.

I walk away slowly until I reach the rocky hills. There is elfroot on top of them and I reach for it clumsily. I don’t have time to make a potion and chew the leaves instead. They are bitter and make my mouth numb but the effect is pretty much the same.

My steps become bigger. Faster. My health is replenished but it’ll take some time before I feel completely healed.

Nevertheless, I run. I don’t know why but it feels like magic is flowing in my body. It feels like someone is whispering to me to keep going.

For once in my life… only for this once… I feel free from the burdens of yesterday…

 

I have to stop because the salt water in my armor makes me feel uncomfortable. When it finally dries, I wander around in order to find something to eat. To my luck, there’s a trail of smoke coming from behind the tall bushes.

I scout a little and I finally come across a camp. The fire is still burning but its owners seem to be nowhere. I move closer carefully. There is food on one of the tables. It looks tempting. My stomach growls and after I look around, I dart towards it and grab two slices of bread and an apple.  

I devour the slices hungrily before getting away first. There are numerous chests lying around. The big one on my left seems to have weapons. I swallow and my throat hurts. Then I open the chest and reveal some old staffs lying inside.

When I grab one I feel like my magic aligns with it. It flows from my chest to my arm and then finds its way on the wooden surface. The last one I touched was Mahanon’s. It is an old one cut from Dahl’amythal. It’s precious to our clan’s Keepers. They’ve been passing it onto each new First for generations.

This old thing here feels nothing like Mahanon’s. But it’s good for a new Mage, I suppose.

Shit… I’m doing exactly what Mahanon wants me to do… I put the staff back and search for a bow or a dagger between the staffs. It seems that this is a Mage camp. Apostates maybe?

What are they doing out here? The staffs are too many for one or two.

Unfortunately, the only thing closer to a weapon is the knife on the table. I wonder if I should take one of the staffs instead…

Shit again…

I swallow my pride and grab one. My brother’s wish is fulfilled when I leave the chest alone. There are noises coming towards the camp. I hurry and grab the knife as well and then run away feeling a little thrilled. I hope they won’t catch me.

The staff feels heavier than a bow but I hold on to it tightly.

I’m getting closer.

I don’t stop even though I’m parched. I have to keep moving in case the ones who set that camp decide to come after the thief. It feels like I’m running endlessly, passing trees that look the same and rocks that are sharp enough to damage my feet.

 

When I reach Crestwood the sky has turned black. Thick raindrops are falling down, disappearing inside a thin layer of white fog. I take the mountain pass to avoid the shemlen around here. The air feels different than the Free Marches. Something bad must’ve happened here. It’s like the trees and rocks of this place echo sorrow and pain.

It sends shivers down my spine every single time. I try to ignore it but it’s always there; like a little cruel reminder that bleeds into the world.

There is beauty, though. It’s wild and dangerous but still beautiful.

As I move closer I begin to feel it. The place I’m heading is quite unique. I don’t know if Human Mages are aware of it. I guess they are occupied with other matters to notice the world around them. No-one sane enough would willingly enter the place where wild Wyverns roam.

Seems weird for a Dalish to be so far away from her camp.  I wonder what will happen if the shemlen spot me. I guess pitchforks and fire perhaps? It’s amusing to picture them the way the older Keepers described them.

Monsters…

Sometimes I can’t decide who is which.

 

My quest is almost completed when I see the entrance to the cave. There’s no sign of either Wyvern or shemlen. Guess it’s a good day. I try to rest a little before heading there. Luckily, the Wyverns will have nested somewhere warmer.

The rain stops but the smell of wet soil and fog remain.

I’m so close that I feel a little impatient. This always happens.

My feet hurt but I stand up and reach the cave. There’s water dripping somewhere, the sound makes me feel a little uneasy. But when I find myself under the fading sunrays every single doubt vanishes.

Despite the cold winter, the plants surrounding the pond are greener than outside. The huge statues of harts greet me and I smile. I’m finally here. A little rainbow appears at the waterfall but goes away the moment the clouds shift.

I move closer to the water and put the staff down as my knees reach the soil. My reflection is a little hazy but I can see my face. I look so normal compared to my brother. He is the exceptional one, the gifted one, the perfect one…

I just happen to share the same eyes and face.

I drink hungrily from the pond to relieve my thirsty body.

The red on my hair looks dirty from the sand. My face is covered with brown spots and I clean it using the water in front of me. It feels refreshing. I look down again and see my vallaslin.

“Ma ghilana, Mythal.”

I whisper, afraid of what my voice can do to this place. My skin feels like it’s covered by a thin layer of fog. My mother used to say that it’s because of the spirits. They are everywhere despite being unable to see them.

I’ll camp here tonight as I’ve done in the years that have passed. What I need to complete my quest lies next to the exit of the cave. It’s necessary for what I have to do.

I stand up and search around for some aromatic plants. Then I collect the one thing that the greatest herbalists would die to acquire.

Felandaris, the demon weed.

It grows only in places where the Veil is thin. There’s a recipe I found some years ago. It described a potion that allows the drinker to relive their most powerful memories.

Luckily, I had the rest of the ingredients safely tied on my belt in little vials so I wouldn’t lose them.

I prepare the sticks and as the burn they release a sweet smell that makes me sleepy. But it’s not time to sleep yet.

Since I had to let my supplies go, I don’t have the right tool to prepare the potion. I think…

I search around and find two pieces of log. Carving them into something close to a mortar and pot takes time but I finally have what I need to begin. The recipe demands that I warm some River Water but what I have to produce fire is my magic…

So be it…

I feel colder as the sun sets. The sky is clear now and the crescent moon sheds some light onto the pond. The light helps me crush the ingredients together with a rock carefully. Then I add water and stir.

It takes some time until it is ready so I go back to the pond and clean my vials. The water sliding on the rocks in front of me is soothing. So soothing that makes me wonder what I’m doing here.

No. I have to focus. This beauty always tricks me.

When I return to the mortar I see that the potion has turned into a dark orange liquid.

It’s time.

Drink.

I don’t hesitate.

The potion disappears as I devour it hungrily. It’s awful. I lie back inhaling the smell of the sticks. Before I close my eyes, I remember the little notes at the end of the recipe.

_…lethal even in small quantities._

It doesn’t mean anything to me now. I’ve already drunk it.

My body goes numb. It feels so relaxing.

Then the same sharp pain comes but I don’t care. I clench my teeth and push myself to endure it. It’s part of the process. If I survive this, then I’ll wake up and pray to the Creators for allowing me to live another day.

It comes slowly… like a little lullaby… I can hear it in my head.

My eyes shut.

Today’s the anniversary of my mother’s death. I wonder how Mahanon deals with this day.

Does he pray? Does he try to forget?

Does he blame me?

It hurts.

But not as much as her eyes did when the beast attacked her. I remember its green eyes piercing through me. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Then the monster attacked them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes on this chapter:
> 
> There is no canon potion for this purpose so I made one up. In my mind, this potion, which I call "Tears of Memory", causes a hallucinogenic episode that allows the drinker to relive the most powerful memories of his life. It's something like a drug that has a stronger effect on mages due to the small amounts of magic felandaris absorbs.  
> Here is a sort of [Codex entry/recipe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8945182/chapters/20476093) I wrote for the potion if you want to please your inner Herbalist/potion maker.
> 
> Dahl’amythal: The tree of Mythal. According to Velanna, Dalish Keepers staffs are cut from its like.


	5. Growing Strong

I run and run and run and run…

I’m faster than I thought.

How can I run so fast?

The trees look like a green mess of sticks and leaves.

Something’s wrong but I can’t see it. My heart tells me I should slow down but my legs don’t obey me.

I only stop when my ears pick a noise. There is someone out here with me. It’s a voice… sweet…

I run again.

The ground seems awfully close to my face as my legs mark the soft ground. I can listen to the heart of the forest. Even the wings of a bug flying around me. When did I acquire such power?

What is this?

I have to move forward despite the noises that want to distract me. What I listened some minutes ago was not part of the forest. It was something else. Something… sweet and pleasant. My heart responds to it. It can’t…

Run…

There is a familiar smell. It’s confusing. It’s like my nose follows a fragranced route. I follow the strange path until I finally come across the source of the smell.

A child?

A child with red hair flowing on her shoulders? A child with little freckles on her cheeks?

She is making something.

A wreath.

She looks at me but doesn’t move. She keeps weaving flowers and sprigs ignorantly. I want to move closer but another voice stops me. It’s not sweet anymore but a loud scream that breaks my heart in half.

I turn around searching for it.

Where is it?

Where are _you_?

I move closer to the child and then the owner of the voice appears in front of me.

You look so young…

I try to scream. To get closer but your face is full of terror and disgust. You are afraid.

Of course.

This is the day you died.

I try to move closer and hug you but the only thing you do is to point your cutting knife towards me.

I scream again.

Can’t you listen to my words?

Again. I can hear my words piercing my ears.

Why can’t you listen?

Is it because…

 

_This is a dream…_

 

The little girl with the red hair looks at me. Her face is full of anger and horror. It is the face I wished I’d never have to see again in my life.

It is strange how things turned out to be. It is different this time.

Why?

Has my guilt finally consumed the sane parts of myself?

I look down but instead of feet I see black hairy paws and large claws that can tear apart their soft flesh.

I yell but my words have turned into terrifying growls.

I look at her.

_“Don’t be afraid.”_

Listen to me!

Please!

I am afraid! I am here!

I jump towards her but when I do she vanishes into a cloud of black smoke that chokes me.

There is only the little girl. Her tears have nicked her smooth skin. However, her little hands form fists that are ready to fight what has invaded her little world.

I smile.

I cannot defeat her.

Her magic finally manifests and I watch her. My heart is about to break into a million pieces.

Then I move to her.

Snow begins to fall. It makes her hair look funny.

I am here.

With you.

_I am._

_You._

What’s the difference?

We are the same thing that has been lurking in the shadows for so long.

My mouth opens revealing the sharp teeth that I will never be able to forget.

She doesn’t move.

I shiver as whispers flood my ears.

_You have to try and fight the beast that lies within._

But it’s a fight _we_ can’t win.

 

When I open my eyes I can’t breathe. I try to stand up but it is hard. I can’t panic now. If I panic I’m dead.

_Relax. Give your body some time to deal with it._

My mind is usually terrible at trying to calm down my body. But now it works.

I’m finally able to take in little breaths of cold air. It feels worse, though, because it invades and rips my tired lungs. I turn to my right and part of the potion leaves my mouth in a slow flow.

It is disgusting.

My throat hurts.

Fenedhis.

But I’m alive.

When my eyes get used to the darkness, I check my hands for any abnormalities. Half of the dream remains unknown to me. But half of it is still the same. That last part is still the same haunting and terrifying as always.

I feel sweaty all over and the cold air is making my bones shiver. I have no choice but to get rid of everything.

I help my fire come back to life and put my armor around it. I can feel my naked skin itching. It is that damned place that causes everything. It messes with my head. But I can’t stop coming here.

_Mala suledin nadas._

I walk towards the pond and stop only when my entire body is engulfed by water. It’s freezing. That’s good because I can’t close my eyes now. The potion is still in my body. If I fall asleep, I don’t know if I’ll be able to break free.

I remember the little girl with the red hair. So young. Her face untainted by the burdens of adulthood and corruption. It’s funny how an unfortunate moment was enough to change it.

I try to look at the moon but there’s only darkness up there.

But then they appear.

Small snowflakes. My body tries to cope with the cold water but I feel nothing. How can I deal with something—

My recollection is suddenly interrupted when I hear noises. I spring afraid that it may be a hungry Wyvern.

I search as far as my vision allows me. Then, I move slowly to the sore searching for the knife. Luckily, it’s where I left it before my dream. I look again but there is nothing there.

No.

There is something.

It lurks in the shadows. I get out of the pond slowly, my skin hurting from the temperature drop. It’s hard to see but I can feel it.

I move towards the huge harts when my eyes catch some movement. I try not to shout but when I see it I fall back.

This thing is not from this world. My eyes hurt to the sight. Tattered black hood and robes cover its greyish skin. It’s like a giant rat walking on two feet.

I’m ready to attack but it just stares at me covering his mouth with its hand. It looks awfully big and deformed. It’s a creature of the Fade.

I move closer, fear embracing every inch of my body. The tingling on my skin gets worse. What is this?

Despite my clan’s warnings, I make another step. My hand is curious to find out if this is just an illusion. When I dare to touch it, the image dissolves into thin air.

A demon… I suspect I’m the reason it was here. All this time I’ve never encountered one. Or I was too consumed by my own little world that I never noticed.

I go back to my fire and feed it another log.

Did I go too far this time?

I sit down and throw the knife away.

Tears… So many tears, again. This guilt is unbearable. I can’t help it. There must be something I can do… I want to… but then I don’t. This gift Deshanna and Mahanon insist on embracing is a curse. It’s too painful to bear.

My eyes search for the knife. The blade sparks under my fire like a little star. My lips form a smile I can’t explain. My throat hurts but I burst into laughter. Then I coil on the ground and close my eyes.

I guess what’s left is despair.

 

The morning sun turns this place into a miracle. I don’t want to admit it but… it makes me feel glad nothing happened to me.

My body aches everywhere but I have to move quickly. It’s a long journey back and I suspect crossing the Waking Sea will be challenging. I hope the boat is still there. It’s a good day to travel.

I wonder about my clan. Somehow I feel like visiting them…

Mehra will be so happy to see me. She will want to show me her son as well. Good old Mehra. At least she doesn’t mind. There are some people in my clan who don’t want me to step a foot back there.

_Lucky me…_

I suspect Varalan is among those who would want to burn me on a stick… I sometimes wonder how he is. Did he bond with Kaya or not? I never ask my brother of such things.

That night before I left my clan was quite memorable. I had almost drunk myself into oblivion. I wanted to do something grand before going away for good. I guess having sex with a soon-to-be-bonded elf wasn’t my smartest move.

I don’t remember much of that night. We were celebrating another good year for our Hunters. Andruil’s feasts always end up with an unexpected twist in the end. Either a da’len drinks too much and throws up all over the place or a hahren passes out from drinking and dancing.

I had done both… The next day I had found myself sleeping naked next to the Halla. My belly hurt a little and Varalan was nowhere near me.

Later that day he found me packing my stuff. I can’t even recall half of the things he’d said. Apparently I was his first since Kaya was waiting for the bonding to be completed.

Another thing I’ll be blamed for ruining eventually…

I don’t know if he ever told her. Messing with the Harellan of the family is a huge disgrace after all. I wonder if Mahanon knows about it. He and Varalan were close at that time.

It’s our little dirty secret I suppose.

Paying my clan a visit sounds more complicated now that I think about it. But I’d love to see the looks on their faces at some point. They thought I wouldn’t survive on my own.

I don’t blame them. Deviating from traditional values is a great deal.

Yet here I am.

Growing strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! It took some time to upload this...  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Fenedhis: Shit  
> Mala suledin nadas.: Now you must endure


	6. Blade of Blood

I reach my tree house with hands full of elfroot and embrium. The only thing I need now is a good rest because my feet are killing me.

Everything seems in place when I pull the leaves away. I put my herbs aside and lie down. This journey was enough to satisfy my _adventurous_ side. Getting back to the safety of my routine sounds really good now.

I close my eyes relieved. I hope for a good dreamless sleep this time. Yes. This will be perfect.

 

I spring from my bedroll listening to swords clashing. I’m too sleepy to tell if this is real or not. I try to grab my flask but the sound of voices wakes me up a little.

I crawl to my window. My vision is still a little blurry.

I can hear men yelling and horses galloping.

What’s going on?

I must stay hidden. It can’t be my clan. We don’t have horses. It must be humans.

Smugglers?

They sound like warriors.

I hide and think of a plan. If they are fighting, then…

I don’t want to think that my clan is the one fighting them. I have to take a look. I search for my smaller dagger. Taking the staff will only make things worse. What humans hate more than an Elf is an Apostate Elf.

The forest is strangely brighter when I land on the ground. It feels heavier, like the land has absorbed something toxic.

The voices become louder as I’m heading towards my clan. I have to be there despite my feelings for them.

I bump onto sticks and logs but don’t fall down.

Wake up! Mahanon is out there.

The sound of iron clashing is so strange. This forest used to be so quiet. Everything is restless. Nugs and fennecs are running away terrified by the sound.

When I’m close, I come across something only the Dread Wolf could’ve devised.

There are Mages in weird robes casting spells and yielding smaller blades towards armed men with huge swords and shields. I know the crest on their armors. Deshanna had spoken to us about the Templar Order but we never really encountered any of them out here.

There must be twenty Templars fighting everyone. Pieces of Mages are lying on the ground. The smell is horrible. They must be Apostates and they have to be eliminated no matter what.

I have to walk away and find my brother. Such rage is dangerous. I try to stay away from spells and blades. It can’t be. There is smoke and fire. One of the big Aravels is on fire. Mahanon…

No. Mehra first. She’s no warrior to defend herself. I run to the tents. Some of them are already destroyed but there are no bodies.

“Melana!”

I turn around unable to think. This can’t be happening.

“Eloris!” I shout at the hunter. “Where’s Mehra?”

“We’ll take them to the caves.”

“Thank the Creators.” I squeeze my dagger gentler. “What’s going on? Where’s Deshanna?”

“The shemlen are fighting each other. The Mages walked into the camp for shelter and the Templars followed them. We were caught into this. Deshanna tried to reason with them. They wouldn’t leave.”

“Where’s my brother?”

“He’s trying to hold them. We have to help our children.”

“No!” I yell at him. If my brother is out there I have to be with him. “I’ll help them. You help Mehra and the children.”

Eloris nods at me and runs towards the forest. The Hunters are trying to keep them away from the Aravels. I search around. The smell is horrible. There are shemlen burning next to the Aravel.

I don’t want to kill… I run to the hunters and spring onto the huge Templar in front of me. I only want to wound him but he throws me back. I feel my ribs breaking but I stand up.

His blade is lethal. I have to avoid it at all costs.

“Die Apostate!”

How does he know? Or do we all have to die? I manage to deal some damage but the muscular man doesn’t seem to slow down.

I hear the whistling sound of arrows. It makes my body want to fight harder. I jump and wound the exposed area his armor is unable to protect. I will knock him out and move away.

But when I’m about to do it I see cones of cold hitting him hard. I freeze, my mind turns blank and then another voice.

“Melana! Step back!”

I don’t move. I can’t.

A hand forces me to move back. “Are you hurt?”

The voice makes me feel comfortable. I turn to him and hug him.

“Mahanon… What happened?”

“We have to stay alive. This is not our war. The shemlen are out of their minds.”

I let him and look at his face. There’s a fresh wound on his forehead. “You have to go. Find Mehra and the rest.”

“No! I am staying.”

I know he wants to keep me safe but I’m not going to abandon him. He’s the only thing I’ve left.

“We must hold them. Help anyone who’s wounded."

I see him leaving, the white staff on his hands and his Keeper Robes are dirty. I move fast towards our archers while Mahanon attacks Mages and Templars. I had never noticed… how much he looks like father when he fights.

I look around for wounded clansmen when two da’lens attract my attention. There’s a Mage after them and I hurry to their direction. The little girl is bleeding but the little boy doesn’t leave her hand.

My feet bleed as I step onto sharp rocks to reach them. It takes only a moment for the Mage to cast his spell and I’m three moments behind that.

She falls down but the boy doesn’t let her hand. I shout at them but my voice doesn’t reach them. Faster!

The Mage looks at me in fear. He then lowers himself towards the girl and casts a spell. My head hurts when the boy screams.

“Monster!” His voice makes my head hurt. I feel a little dizzy! The little girl rises, her eyes are dripping blood that taints her innocent face.

Blood Magic.

I’m angry and my body reacts. What lies dormant wants to break free and take revenge. There’s only one thing in my mind. The Mage. I want that Mage. I want to kill him.

I run towards him, my blade directed to his heart but when I do, he uses the da’len as a shield. I pierce her instead. My hand feels warm as the Mage tries to run away.

I can’t breathe.

“Ir abelas.” I place her head down gently. She was already dead but…

The Mage.

“Hide!” I stand up leaving the little boy I was supposed to help. I have to find that Mage.

He is running away towards his _Mage friends._ My dagger is useless so I toss is aside. I have something better.

It feels like my heart will explode. He seems to notice me but he doesn’t look frightened.

He should be.

Everything around me slows down when I aim at them. Icy cones  pass through their frail limbs but I don’t care if it hurts. Magic flows in my body like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I want them to feel what the little girl felt.

Pain.

Horror.

Everything.

Pleasure feels my body when I realize I’m stronger than them. I shouldn’t be that strong but I am. I scream words they don’t understand as his two friends fall down wounded. Cornered like the _animals_ you have killed…

“Melana—”

I can’t understand what the voice wants to say. All I need is the shem to die.

“Melana—“

My head…

I try to finish him off. For some reason his spells have no effect on me. I move closer, determined to take his life. Something like a horn is heard and the man turns around.

When our eyes meet I can see him begging for mercy. How can I show you mercy when you showed none, human?

This stupid thing— All those deaths— because you need to survive.

“Asa’ma’lin—“

The voice doesn’t stop me from casting the spell. I anticipate the horror on his face but for some reason I feel empty. The human in front of me grins and picks his staff from the ground.

What did I do…

The voice becomes louder and then I find myself lying on the ground. My eyes search for him. The Mage is burning before my eyes.

Then another scream from a mouth I know.

Eyes sparkling, blood dripping.

My brother bends to the ground, a huge blade of blood keeps him from lying down. He’s in pain.

I—

His eyes—

“Melana!”

Deshanna calls out for me.

Mahanon—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asa'ma'lin: Sister


	7. Dir’vhe’nan

_Time is not kind._

It once was, though...

My brother used to say that a lot after Deshanna took him as her First.

I know he used to say _Time_ but…

_Melana_ means time in the language of our ancestors.

I know he meant me… I was never the child my clan wanted me to be. My presence had always been a nuisance.

These thoughts don’t leave me alone…

I take a deep breath before entering the tent and find Mahanon lying on his bedroll reading something. He uses his magic instead of a regular lamp to see in the dark. I enjoy the sight of his orange flames more than I should.

I take my eyes away quickly when he looks at me. His vallaslin feel so hostile despite his face being serene. I don’t know how he does that.

He looks so peaceful despite…

“I brought you some food…”

“Ma serannas, sister.”

His voice is so calm that makes me wonder. It feels so strange in my ears. Painful even, knowing that I am to blame for my family’s misfortune, again.

“Deshanna wondered if you…“

My voice is shaking, again… Fenedhis…

“Maybe later.”

I sit down and hand him the plate without looking at his face.

“Your head will explode,” I feel his eyes pinned on my face. “if you keep thinking about it. It’s been two months already, Melana.”

I can’t answer. Not yet. He knows I’ll wait silently until he finishes his meal. “How is Deylen?”

My nails hurt my flesh when he asks. Even now he tries to make me feel better. I don’t deserve it.

You must stop trying…

“He’s fine…”

“Alive and well.” He corrects me.

I suddenly feel his hand on mine and I try not to break for his sake. It’s impossible, though.

“Ir abelas, brother. I’m responsible for this. Our clan—“

“You are responsible for saving the life of an innocent da’len and helping our clan survive this.”

“Sal’shiral durlahn.”

“Min on’el o din.”

“Lasa ghilan, isa’ma’lin. I don’t know what to do… what to say… why do you make this so difficult?”

“You are among your brothers and sisters now. You care about us, Melana. And we care about you… is it so difficult to believe that…”

“I— can’t see it…” I feel tears on my cheeks but Mahanon only smiles at me. I understand what he tries to say but it’s not easy. It never was and never will. The path that led me astray from my clan was easier. And I was a coward…

“Our clan can endure everything. The people we lost that day will be remembered. Our Keeper will need all the help she can get since I can no longer fulfill my duties. But this doesn’t mean y—”

“No… I’ll find… We’ll find a way to make you…” The word is so painful.

“Walking again is impossible. Magic can’t fix anything. I have accepted my fate. It is something I must endure. But you… I can see it now. The burden I wanted you to carry. I was unfair… Driven by what I thought was best for you and not what you truly wanted.”

“Mahanon…”

“I’m sorry that things turned out to be like this. But you shouldn’t blame yourself. It was my choice. If you choose to leave, I’ll talk to Deshanna. I’m sure our clan will respect it.”

“I’ll stay…”

“Melana, you don’t have to—“

“I want to, Mahanon! I will stay with you, with our clan, with everyone. I was so foolish to believe that the Harellan life will make me atone for…”

“Shush… Mother would’ve been proud of you. As am I.”

When I look at him I can see her face. This guilt is greater now. “You need neither our mother’s nor my forgiveness. The only one you need to forgive is yourself.”

His words make me sob. It is unbearable to hear such words coming from his mouth. I let myself fall on his lap, fingers squeezing leather and soft Halla cloth.

“I am the one who should apologize to you.”

I can’t let him see me like this. “I could not understand, so I blamed you, Melana. I blamed you for letting mother die. But now I see I was at fault and I’m deeply sorry that you had to consider yourself a Harellan. I’m sorry you had to go through this alone. This burden is also mine to share.”

I stop only when his face rests on my hair. He whispers words our mother used to say to comfort us during the long winter nights. He holds me and tries to make me hush.

“When we hit are lowest point, the gods illuminate our path. You should have faith in them and yourself.”

I close my eyes and feel my head emptying. Somehow he is able to suck this sorrow out of me.

“Ma serannas.”

Even for a brief moment…

 

Some days ago, the clan finally moved deeper into the forest. The Aravels still need to be repaired but we managed.

The Halla that survived the attack are now carrying new lives inside them. It is a good sign. They have already made a hundred offerings to Ghilan’nain and Sylaise for our clan’s prosperity.

I can’t recall their prayers because I never learnt them. But Mythal and Andruil are by my side.

_Mythal inana tarsul em’an._

Being part of this seems more difficult than living in the wilderness. There are still some who look at me and turn away. But most of them seem to have forgotten of my past _whim_ , though. It’s somewhat comforting. My new clothes also feel strange on my skin. They are the robes of a Dalish apprentice after all.

It’ll take time to heal but time is what I now have in abundance. My brother supports me and that gives me hope. However, everything still lingers in my mind, lurking like a wolf that can’t be stopped.

Sometimes I believe that the Dread Wolf must like me… a lot. He must be hugging himself in glee...

Deshanna says I should take my time, get used to the energy flowing inside me and reconcile with my demons before my official training begins.

Until she decides I’m ready, I take care of Mahanon as much as I can. He has decided to document some of our stories. No-one has ever done that. His letters are so elegant. It keeps his mind occupied while his body still heals...

He doesn’t want me to think about it. Especially now that he can move around using that weird tharia’haman Master Taelhen crafted for him. I’ve already caught my brother joking about how strong his arms will get if he keeps pushing the wheels harder. Mahanin joking is something I never expected to witness in my life.

This thing is good for him. When he is outside I can see how he looks at our clan. He is so grateful most of the time. But when he goes back to his tent I can see the lines of his face turning dim. We have the same look on our faces…

It hurts to see him like this, so I’ll try harder to finish what he started.

As the night closes in Mahanon studies at his tent. He has already send me away a couple of times because he says I worry too much.

I wander around the new camp for a while to clear my head until I reach the cliff. The forest feels strangely silent today. I wonder if something bad is about to happen.

Deshanna has been spending a lot of time on her own, thinking about what happened. I decide to climb up the cliff and find out what troubles her. If it’s about my brother, I deserve to know about it.

“Da’len.” Her voice is a little cautious and I sit next to her carefully admiring the view for a while before I ask.

“Is something troubling you, Keeper?”

“Yes, da’len…”

“About Mahanon?”

“Your brother is strong. You don’t need to worry about him.”

“Is this about me, then?”

“No, da’len. The clan is happy to have you back despite the circumstances of your return. I am personally glad you are back.”

I remain silent thinking about those conversations we had while Mahanon was unconscious for several days. There were things I kept to myself and things I had decided to share with her.

Fears mostly…

There were things I hadn’t considered when l decided to leave. Deshanna understands now. She always had. I was a fool. But she says everyone learns from their mistakes, including her.

“I can’t stop thinking about what that Templar said. This Conclave the Divine is going to hold at the Temple of Sacred Ashes…”

“What about it?”

I can still recall the face of that man. He was consumed by a terrible madness that made my skin crawl.

“This war between Mages and Templars has affected us all. If such madness can reach the far corners of the forest, then this is more serious than I expected. I’ve send messages to the nearest Dalish Clan in the Free Marches about the matter.”

“And?”

“I should have received a response a week ago…”

“Do you think there’s been a similar incident?”

“I pray to the All-mother that they are safe. The Dalish have not been involved with the shemlen since Dirthavaren but this is different. There are voices in the Fade, da’len.”

“Voices?”

“I cannot tell for sure. I’ve tried to interpret them but they are vague. I’ve been thinking, da’len… that maybe it’s time for the Dalish to have a say in the matter. I keep wondering if we should send someone from our clan to the Temple. To observe and inform us about the negotiations.”

“You want a Dalish to infiltrate the Conclave?”

“I would not have thought about endangering the life of one of our people. But it is something important. It seems this is a time of change for everyone. I need to contact the Sabrae Clan but it’ll take weeks before hearing from them. That man said the Divine Conclave will take place in two weeks. I need time to think... It’s a very serious matter.”

I see… It takes me a minute to process everything.

“Why don’t you send me?”

I’m not sure about it but… that little voice in the back of my head agrees.

“You?”

“Why not? I survived on my own for two years. I know how to protect myself from the _beasts…_ And how difficult could infiltrating a Temple be?”

“Absolutely not! What will your brother say? Sending you away?”

I don’t know from where this confidence stems but it’s a chance to prove something. Whatever that is.

“I want to do this. The clan won’t object. I’m sure about that. I don’t think they want to lose more of their brethren.”

“You are one of us. I’ll have to discuss the matter with Mahanon, da’len. Your words are brave.”

“Ma nuvenin.”

 

I don’t know why Deshanna takes so long to decide.

Mahanon is angry at me for volunteering. But I saw that coming.

I wander around our camp when the first rays appear. Master Taelhen is already up, crafting some bows and armor for our hunters. When he sees me the greets me with a silent nod. That’s better than I expected.

The staff I’m supposed to use is an example of his fine craftsmanship. I still don’t feel comfortable using magic yet. Deshanna says I have to start from the very beginning and learn how to control my aura first.

I feel like a fool that Deshanna explains everything like I’m a vallaslin-less teenager.

Her words accompany me to the Aravels where I see Deylen’s father making repairs.

“On dhea, Sael.”

I try hard not to think of the little girl and the blood on her face.

“On dhea…”

“I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Deylen made you something the other day.”

I wait for him to find what he’s looking for in his pouch. “He’s still shocked and won’t come out of our tent but asked me to give you this.”

He finally hands me a little wooden figure. My hand shakes a little. I hope he didn’t notice.

“He insisted on giving it to you.”

It’s one of those Dalish toy soldiers my brother also used to make. It’s very pretty.

“Ma serannas.” I smile at him and squeeze the wooden figure between my fingers. “I should go. Deshanna’s waiting for me.”

“You should come to our tent when you have time. Valora would like to make some ghi'myelan bradhe to thank you.”

His invitation makes me feel a little uncomfortable but I smile back and thank him. I walk away shoving the wooden figure in my leather pouch. I believe Mahanon and Deshanna must have something to do with the clan being _nicer_.

I keep the thought and reach her tent after a while. Mahanon is talking to her. The sun and mountain air are good for him. He doesn’t look sick anymore and he’s back in his usual weight.

“On dhea.” He’s still a bit grumpy from yesterday but I don’t blame him. I greet Deshanna as well and sit to my brother’s side quietly.

“It’ll be a long journey to the temple but your brother trusts you. He says you’ve travelled to Ferelden before.”

“He does?” I turn towards him. He must’ve kept a closer eye on me than I thought.

“You were not easy to track, Melana. But I knew that you crossed the Waking Sea. I’ll respect your reasons.”

“So you had me followed…”

“I was worried.”

I frown a little but I don’t mind. It belongs to the past.

“It won’t be easy. I can’t cross the Waking Sea without a boat. The shem that helped me is dead and I doubt the boat I hid is still there.”

I think about it a little. It’ll take me weeks to go through the Exalted Plains on mount. Time is not a luxury now.

“Kirkwall…”

I look at Deshanna hesitantly.

“Kirkwall? That’s our best option?” Mahanon’s voice is harsh. “You want to kill her?”

“What happened there?”

“It’s where this Mage and Templar war began. You can’t just step into Kirkwall and hope no-one will notice. It’s far too dangerous. A war zone!”

“But there are ships there, right? I could easily go to that Temple from there.”

“Melana! Listen to me. You don’t want to go to Kirkwall right now. If they find you, they’ll think you’re a Dalish spy and imprison you. Worse, they’ll kill you. That city is cursed. That place bleeds and people are dying.”

“If they don’t see me, they won’t know I was even there. All I need to do is sneak into one of the ships and head towards that village.”

“I can’t agree to that. It is suicide. Can’t you listen to reason for once, sister?”

Mahanon grabs my shoulder. There’s indescribable fear inside his eyes. I put it in there.

“You were the one who always listened to reason. If I do this, then I’ll be able to help. To make up for everything. I’m not trying to get myself killed. I’m trying to help.”

“Are you sure, da’len? There’s a port outside the city. It will be safer. But if they’ve destroyed it, then you’ll have to go to Kirkwall.”

“No. But I’ll try.”

“Very well. I shall announce your decision to our clan. You’re leaving tomorrow at dawn. May our Creators watch over you. We’ll be praying for your safe return.”

Deshanna smiles and then leaves me and Mahanon alone. He doesn’t look at me.

“I’ll come back.”

“Why do I feel that you won’t?”

I bend next to his chair and reach for his hands. He’s shaking.

“Mahanon… I won’t die, alright?”

“How certain can you be?”

“Taronen will watch over me.”

He smiles a little. When we were children they would identify us as such. Mahanon was always knowledgeable and had faith, whereas I would sneak out from our camp to explore the wonders of the night.

“Tel’dina.”

“Dir’vhe’nan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this.   
> :)
> 
> Ma serannas: Thank you  
> Fenedhis: Crap  
> Ir abelas: I'm sorry  
> Da'len: Little child  
> Sal’shiral durlahn: (You have to) Live a life of stillness  
> Min on’el o din: It’s better than death  
> Lasa ghilan, isa’ma’lin: Give me guidance, brother  
> Mythal inana tarsul em’an: Mythal watch over us  
> Tharia’haman: A sort of wheelchair  
> Dirthavaren: Exalted Plains (lit. The Promise)  
> On dhea, Sael: Good morning, First  
> Ghi'myelan bradhe: Hunter’s pie  
> Taronen: The Twins (Dirthamen and Falon’Din)  
> Tel'dina: Don’t die  
> Dir'vhe'nan: I promise


	8. Shelter

The clan has gathered to say goodbye. Despite the cold morning air that feels like razors on my skin they are here. Mehra runs towards me with tears streaming down her cheeks but I give her a hug and she finally gives me one of her pretty smiled.

“Take care of yourself, Melana. Don’t get yourself in trouble, alright?”

“I’ll try to stay away from the Dread Wolf’s path, Mehra. Don’t worry…”

“That’ll be wise, sister.”

She squeezes me and I can feel her swollen breasts pushing my torso. Sudden thoughts cloud my mind. They are irrational and stupid and I push them away before someone sees my face.

My new outfit feels lighter on my skin. It’s a simple tunic and coat that reeks of human. The smell is horrible, reminding me of flesh burning under the hot sun. I didn’t even ask where these came from but for the shake of blending in, it’s quite perfect…

“Melana?”

Mahanon’s voice finally gives me the excuse to escape Mehra’s arms. The clan makes way for him to pass as Deshanna pushes his chair carefully. They both look a bit nervous. Mahanon’s eyebrows are a bit frowned while his lips are fighting to stay shut.

They both stop in front of me and his fingers push a leather pouch in my hands. It feels heavy when I grab it.

“Various potions. No Lyrium, though. It’s better not to show them you are a Mage.”

“I know that, Mahanon. That’s why I’m taking this.”

I reach for the sharp dagger under the old tunic. The fine metal feels great in my hands. It fills me with strange confidence.

“It will be better if you keep this away as well.”

“I’ll use it if things get out of hand. In case something goes wrong.”

I put the dagger away and button the heavy coat to hide both the dagger and the pouch I attached on my belt. He seems a little less tense when I do. I can only imagine his inner turmoil. But…

“You should also take this with you, da’len.”

Deshanna walks to me and hands me a small purplish crystal. It feels cool and silent when I touch it, like something’s waiting to wake up. It feels like magic and makes my skin numb. Could it be?

“Is this one of those rare crystals?”

“One of the two remaining in our clan.”

“So, I can talk to you through this thing?”

I lift it up and examine the various cuts inside the sturdy body. It looks almost organic, like something dormant lies inside the asymmetric core.

“If you charge it with magic you can communicate with me. But since it’s very old, I suggest you use it wisely.”

“I see…”

I suspect Mahanon asked for this personally. Such crystals are extremely rare around here. The can be sold for a small fortune. And the clan probably needed that money.

“Your horse is ready, da’len. You should leave before the break of dawn. May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent.”

I shove the crystal in my pocket and thank her for the gesture. It is time to leave but I can’t stop feeling the knot in stomach growing bigger. It’ll be just another little adventure…

TO be honest, though, I doubt it will be anything like this.

“Melana…”

Mahanon nods at me to move closer to him and I’m caught by surprise when he grabs me and squeezes me between his arms. The smell of leather and oils is soothing and he whispers the same words again and again until my muscles of my stomach feel less tense. I never thought that he would be so caring. He always seemed so serious and distant…

“Take care of yourself.”

He lets me stand up and I take a good look at his face. Memorising every single line just in case.

“You look like you’re about to cry, brother.”

His sparkling eyes turn away from my face. This… feels so strange… yet it makes me feel that my relationship with my brother is better “Nonsense.”

I will miss him…

 

The air feels wet and earthy.

When I left the campsite, the sky was a clear blue that boosted my confidence. But now, the sky feels more hostile than a hungry wyvern stalking my every move.

I pray it doesn’t turn into a thunderstorm. Because then I’ll have to deal with a scared horse and mud all over my face.

I’m not quite used to riding a mount like this. I wonder if it can feel my fingers trembling while I squeeze the leather strings.

Numerous leaves and branches get in my way while riding. And this because the horse is taller and more muscular than a halla. It travels faster, though, and if I allow myself and the horse a few short breaks during the day, I’ll reach my destination sooner.

It would be wiser to stop and find shelter until this storm passes. But I don’t want to stop and encourage my horse to run faster until the smell of wet soil invades my nostrils.

My horse knows we must stop, but despite my efforts to run faster it slows down to avoid the slippery ground. I can’t tell for how long we’ve been running. The sun in nowhere to be seen, hidden behind thick grey curtains of clouds. A sudden feeling of dread settles over me when I hear thunder in the distance.

“Easy now.” I pet the horse to let it know it’s alright. It doesn’t move even though I try harder. Maybe it’s right. We must find shelter.

As we turn around, sheets of rain come crashing down on our faces. “Easy!”

The leather strings hurt my fingers but if I let them I’ll lose control of the horse. The pain is tolerable but this doesn’t work. I hop off as quickly as I can without letting the strings.

“Easy boy.” The large head moves up and down, threatening to knock me back. He knows he’s stronger than I am. He can easy push me down and escape.

My hands search for the leather under his head and I grab onto it with all my strength. There are a few words the hunters murmur to their horses when the wilderness scares them. I’ve heard those words but I can hardly recall any of it.

Instead I whisper elven words my mother used to say, holding the horse’s head tighter and closer to mine. Another thunder splits the sky into half but the horse doesn’t gallop away.

“We’ll find shelter, okay?”

I slowly release the leather strings. It feels like acid dissolves my flesh and blood comes out from the foolish wounds.

I will take care of that later.

Walking along the horse, I scout ahead for a cave or something. There must be hundreds of them but I’m not sure they’ll be empty. Wild Wyverns roam around here. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with them.

Despite the rain I finally spot a cave not far away from us. It seems to be empty. I pray it is because my horse won’t have the same reaction as I will in the sight of a hungry predator.

The storm is getting worse.

I don’t know why I wanted to continue…

I shouldn’t try so hard to prove…

Prove what?

Does it matter anymore?

I will do this.

 

Water dripping echoes inside the darkness of the cave. The sound is pleasant to listen. It distracts me from thoughts I tried hard to hide while hugging Mehra.

Somehow, I managed to memorise their faces before leaving. One last thing just in case. The crystal in my pocket feels strangely reassuring. I should use it in case of emergency.

Just in case… if…

Fenedhis!

I made a promise I can’t break. I must concentrate on my mission and then think about everything else. This burden has been on my shoulders for so long that I’ve forgotten what it means to feel light. What it means to have to guilt to carry for the rest of your life.

Maybe it’s time…

…to forget?

I shove my face between my knees and try to repel everything but the sound of water. It feels like shadows try to suck me into the void, engulfing my body hungrily until there’s nothing left of me for the beast to feast on.

Somehow, the darkness feels thick and tangible. And when I raise my hand to grasp a piece of it, it dissolves into nothing.

The air finds clever ways to intrude the cave and make me shiver.It’s almost like it wants me to find a way to keep myself warm. What if…

My palms are neatly wrapped with some fabric. The burning has stopped along with the bleeding. I don’t know any healing spells to fix it so I’ll have to bare the mark of my foolishness for a while. It’ll remind me that I am not alone in this.

Concentrating on the sound of water helps me channel my aura. It’s like a river flowing from my chest to my shoulder, branching towards my arms, wrist and gather on my fingertips. This should be normal for a Mage, but it feels more like an angry river that tries to bring everything down with it before reaching the sea.

Finally, little flames appear. They barely touch my skin. It doesn’t burn but I’m afraid that if I keep using it it’ll become too big to control and the guilt will either return or grow bigger than ever.

I fuel it, though. The flames getting bigger, mixing reds and oranges. It feels warm, soothing even. I had no idea I could make something like this.

_Warm… pretty… and dangerous._

I lift my hand a little and to my surprise the roof of the cave sparkles under the flames. Gems? Perhaps lazurite…

Tiny glittering eyes look at me as I lean back and hold my arm high enough to make them sparkle. It’s like the night sky. Unburdened by the storms that rages on.

It’s beautiful…

I can’t help but wonder…

Is this a test?

Are the Creators testing me? Trying to tell me something?

Is this the right choice?

During those two years, everything seemed small and insignificant. Everything was simple and usual. My house, my fire, my bow, the pond… my punishment.

I wonder if there are more wonders out there. If there is someone that can lift my burden and burn it along with all the pain. Could such a person exist?

The thought drives me slowly into the darkness as I let the flames wither and the tiny blue stars above me go out.

 

When I open my eyes, I feel rays of sunlight warming my face. The first things I see are the tiny blue gems on the roof. They seem precious.

My body feels tired and when I stand up I feel my back cracking a little. Grabbing my dagger, I move to the wall and remove some of the gems. Maybe the shemlen will like them and exchange them for goods, or a ticket. They like shiny gems after all.

I put them away with the crystal and sheath the dagger under the wrinkled tunic. If I cover my face with mud I will look like a servant or a slave. Whatever suits the needs of the townspeople I should keep that in mind. I don’t know how they’d treat a Dalish.

My eyes try to get used to the morning light when I finally walk out of the cave. It’s looks like a different place under the sun. The smell of cedar wood and resin makes my nose itch a little.

The horse is browsing quietly away from the cave. It’s a miracle he didn’t run away.

When he notices me walking towards him, he lifts his head to my direction only for a moment before going back to the soft grass. Fine… I search my pouch for something edible and to my luck Mahanon has put all kinds of dried fruit.

I take the plums and squeeze them in my hand. Bribing my horse sounds a good idea to regain his trust. My steps are careful in case he decides to go away and when I’m close I slowly show him his reward. He has earned it after all.

“Peace offering…”

He doesn’t understand what I’m saying but the message is clear. With my free hand, I stroke his white forehead feeling the plums vanishing from my palm.

Later, he allows me to mount him without any protest and we are back on our way to Kirkwall. I guess it worked.

We stop for water when it’s necessary and rest under the shadow when the sun is over our heads. We keep moving after resting and fix our course while looking at the stars during the night. This forest is endless, full of wild plants and beasts. But it feels like an uncharted part of me. I wonder what the city will look like. Will the shems there be as tall as those Templars?

These thoughts keep me company while I search for our breakfast. There’s this salty smell in the air. I must be close to that village now.

I rest on the back of my horse after devouring some apples. It takes me some time to rest but I’m back on it, more confident and terrified at the same time. This feeling is new. It makes me forget a little…

The road is steep, full of trees and sharp rocks. In the distance, I can finally see the sea. The sun makes the surface sparkle, a million little lights that look like those gems. I can taste the saltiness in my tongue but there’s something else in the air. It makes my nose hurt when I breath it in.

Smoke?

I search for the source and come across black pillars of smoke rising to the sky. Is that Kirkwall? The smell is terrible. The village seems fine, though.

I search in my pouch for the last dried plums. I will continue alone from now on to minimize attracting undesirable attention. My horse enjoys his last treat before I remove the leather strings from his skin. When I take the saddle away the bond between us is broken and he is free to go.

I encourage him a little and see him running to the forest. The way he runs reminds me of the things I’d told to myself a long time ago. A time when my demons wouldn’t let me take a breath, haunting me constantly until my eyes shut and terrible dreams took over.

Mahanon was right. I should embrace this grief and move on.

Perhaps when I go back, I can ask him to teach me what he knows about magic. It will bring us closer, make up for our time apart.

We share the same magic, after all. A magic that nourished us since we were in our mother’s womb. Another connection apart from the ties of blood we share.

It is terrifying but I finally see the beauty hiding in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Responsibilities  
> Responsibilities  
> Why do you keep me away?
> 
> Hope you enjoy, guys. :)  
> Real life has kidnapped me!


End file.
